Ariadna watched as the door closed behind Quera. Her new ally had agreed that they wouldn't go after each other until the war's last stages.
She snapped her fingers, using the Zenithlight concealed beneath her clothes to reenact her family magecraft - dominion over the wind, granted by Zis. She formed a bubble of air beneath herself to sit down on, and crossed her legs elegantly. Elegantly. All things must be elegant, yes, for that was the duty of a mage.
"What do you think of them, Assassin?" she said, retrieving a flask from her pocket and taking an elegant sip. Yes, yes, just like a mage. How wonderful. How truly, truly wonderful.
"Hmm…" Assassin tapped a finger against his temple, contemplating the question. "The hair of the Servant was really very alluring, but the attitude of his Master was a bit of a turn-off, if I'm honest."
Oh, ahaha. What an amusing Servant she had. A truly amusing Servant, yes. He'd been like this since she'd summoned him Her eye twitched. "No, no, no, no, Assassin. As allies, what do you think of them?"
Assassin sighed with a smile on his face, spreading his arms wide. "Hm … as allies, you say? Well, they've already denied that request, haven't we? So it's useless to consider the possibility, no?"
The man truly did seem to delight in annoying her. Ariadna smiled once again, teeth bared elegantly, and repeated: "But what would you think of them as allies?"
Assassin blinked, the levity disappearing from his face as he saw his Master's patience was gone. Good, good, he was a man who understood to read the room. Wonderful, truly wonderful…
"Rider is strong," he said after a moment. "He would serve as an excellent executioner's axe, while I distract the enemy and drive them to paranoia."
Ariadna laughed, putting her hand in front of her mouth the way she'd always seen her mother do. Yes, yes, that was the way to laugh. That was the proper and elegant way to express human happiness - no, no, no, no, the happiness of a mage. To be a mage was to reject the happiness of being a human. Yes, that was it. Yes, that was it.
"That's a wonderful idea, Assassin - yes, truly wonderful. Should we convince them, they should make such marvellous allies for us. I'm feeling very confident right now."
Assassin gave her a funny look. "What are you planning?"
"A theft, Assassin. A heist is the word? I'm not sure. Does that please you, Assassin? Does the thought of taking from others amuse you?"
A light laugh filled the warehouse, as Assassin lowered himself into a deep and exaggerated bow. "But of course! Such wickedness is my calling in life, and thus my only joy! You truly understand me like no other, Master. What, may I ask, am I taking, and from whom?"
Ariadna told him, and Assassin's eyes widened in surprise and - yes, she could see it - excitement. The promise of an impossible heist, the challenge of such an adventure, aroused those emotions in him.
"Well," he laughed. "When you intend to provide a bribe, you go all the way, Master. I must congratulate you on your ambition, at the very least. Behold - I will now congratulate you." He clapped his hands quietly, then stopped a moment later. "But I must repeat my question - this is truly what you want of me?"
"Yes."
He replied without missing a beat: "Then I'll need my Noble Phantasm to accomplish such a feat. Do I have your permission, my lady?"
"But of course," Ariadna smiled. "I wouldn't ask you to commit such a crime without such means. What can kind of woman do you take me for?"
"I wouldn't want to say, my lady, but thank you for your trust." Again, he bowed - with that same impertinence in it. How truly truly inelegant. Ariadna's eye twitched. But it was fine, fine, truly wonderful, she was feeling very confident now.
"I wish you the best of luck, Assassin," she said.
Assassin turned to leave, cape swishing in the air behind him. As he did, there was a flare of red light - and when it cleared, there was a punk-looking girl in a hoodie with dyed blue hair where he had just stood.
Yes, Assassin was truly a master of disguise. Yes, truly, truly.
She spoke aloud to Assassin's back as he - currently she - left. "I do wonder, Assassin. Will you one day betray me?"
"But of course," said Assassin without stopping, lifting their hand in an easy wave. "What kind of scoundrel do you take me for?"
Their laughter faded into the night, leaving Ariadna to her thoughts.
Damian Vane sat in his office, eyes closed and elbows on his desk, mentally sorting through the events of the last few days. His son kidnapped. His daughter a wreck. The War very much not off to the start he'd expected.
The office was decorated in the Lawston style, all the furniture a stark white, with the floors and walls being a deep black. When presented properly, with enough care, it felt as though you were floating in the void, as though you were the only thing of substance in the world. Usually, it felt pretty affirming. Now, it just made Damian feel more anxious - like he was adrift in the void of space, with direction and gravity having both abandoned him. There was nothing worse than being directionless. Absolutely nothing.
He rubbed his temples through his thick black hair. There was definitely a way out of this. There was always a way out of everything, and into everything too. That was a belief dear to Damian's heart. Anything could be accomplished, so long as you knew the method.
He'd found the method for many things in his life, those invisible steps that led him to fortune and success.
He'd discovered Zenithlight, built a fortune from it.
He'd made the Zenith system his own.
He'd advanced ZenithCorp to such a degree that they were almost their own government, independent from Earth.
So. So so so. These new obstacles, in comparison, were mundane. Below his concern. The steps to rid himself of them were surely leagues simpler than those that he'd climbed to get this far. He could find his way out of this situation with ease, so long as his feet could find those steps.
Rosa could be calmed. Isaac could be found, retrieved, rescued. The kidnapper could be killed. Slowly.
Anger flared in Damian's mind as he thought of the person who had taken his son. Did they think him someone to trifle with? Someone who could be pushed around and bullied like some hapless fool?
He gritted his teeth. Since the kidnapping, he'd gone over the ransom note over and over again, both physically and in his mind. The things they'd said they'd do to his Isaac … he'd surely take inspiration from them when they found the culprit.
All he needed … all he needed was to place his foot out on that first step, and find solid ground beneath him. A foundation on which to build his retaliation.
He'd dispatched his security throughout the system. Was that the first necessary step? He couldn't be sure.
How much time did he have? The kidnapper hadn't given him a specific deadline, but only said 'immediately'. Surely they wouldn't do away with their hostage immediately, though, no matter what they'd said. He was too valuable to them.
But still. Still still still. There was a time limit. He only had so long in which to climb.
Damn it, all he needed was that first goddamn step.
"Damian Vane," said a voice inside his head. Jovial, with a light French accent.
Damian jumped, falling out of his chair and collapsing to the void-black floor. He looked up wildly, only to stop when he saw that the room was empty.
"Hello?" he said, kicking himself inwardly when he heard how meek he sounded. That wouldn't do, to sound weak when confronted with an intruder. That was not how he presented himself. He gathered himself and spoke again, more firmly: "Who is this? Identify yourself!"
"This is Servant Assassin, of the Holy Grail War. I trust you're familiar."
Damian's blood went cold. Assassin? Here?
He heard the voice chuckle. "Worry not. I am not here for your life. In fact, I'm not 'here' at all. I'm currently on Horizon Colony, in fact, at the top of the Gold Werewolf Casino and Hotel - if I'm more specific, in room 674 on the nineteenth floor. Right now, I'm sitting on the bed - the left side - consuming a mint the maid must have left on my pillow. It's quite good."
"W...What?" Damn it, not like that, not like that! "What are you talking about, Servant?"
"I'm talking to you right now as sort of a calling card. It's a necessary condition for my Noble Phantasm, you see. Calling Card requires me to tell you my exact location, and to tell you exactly what I'm going to steal - which, in this case, will be your entire personal fortune."
Damian couldn't reply to that. He only blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish plucked from the water. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Not to him. Not after all he'd worked for. The steps he'd taken. The steps.
"I trust you're too shocked to speak, so I'll continue. As a master thief, it will take forty-eight hours for your fortune to pass into my hands - I know it's currently stored physically within the head offices of ZenithCorp, and where. All the conditions for Calling Card have been cleared. You'll be receiving updates on my location hourly until either I've stolen your fortune or I am caught. By caught, I mean that either you or a person acting on your orders makes physical contact with me. Forgive me for rambling on, but there's a need to be specific about these things. Good day."
"Wait!" Damian spluttered, all sense of dignity forgotten in the face of this threat.
Assassin did not wait. The room was silent.
Assassin slapped his hands together, congratulating himself on a job well done as he got up from the bed.
"Going somewhere?" said Eliza, still lying in bed. She was a lovely lady who Assassin had met in the casino below and had taken a liking to - but, alas, it was time to part.
"I must be off, unfortunately," he said, leisurely dressing himself once again. "The authorities will no doubt come to this place soon - within a few minutes, I imagine." He slung his cape over his shoulder - he'd never worn such a thing in life, but he had to admit it was quite fetching. "I apologize if they're a bit rough with you, but please try to bear it."
Eliza sat up, eyes wide as she pulled the covers to preserve her modesty. "What?"
"Goodbye," said Assassin, winking at her - and then he leapt out of the open window.
Ah, the night sky on Horizon truly was bracing - it had nice warm days and soothingly cold nights. As Assassin fell from the hotel window, he swore he could even see some snow reflected in the light. It was a shame that it would melt come day; it reminded him somewhat of Paris in the winter. Once he won the war, perhaps he would head back there to see how it had fared over the years.
Oh?
Assassin glanced up - some kind of security vehicle was flying through the sky in the direction of the casino, lights flashing red and blue. They really did have a quick dispatch time! Very impressive!
He supposed he'd best use his Presence Concealement to put some distance between him and the authorities before Damian Vane was alerted to his location again.
Oh, but where was the fun in that?
Still falling, Assassin let out a bellowing laugh, doing a flip. The searchlight on the bottom of the security craft instantly locked onto him, illuminating him in a stark spotlight, as though he were on stage. Airborne, Assassin bowed towards his new audience. He really was a lucky man, to be able to experience such thrills even after his death.
Angling himself carefully, Assassin kicked himself off from the casino and shot up into the air - winking at the handsome pilot as he flew past the cockpit - and landed on top of the security craft. Without missing a beat, he ran along its surface and hopped to the next building over, maintaining a speed that, although very fast for a human body, was considerably below his capabilities as a Servant.
Such chases really weren't any fun without a handicap.
He heard a door being kicked in, and heavy boots running out onto the roof. He spun around as he reached the edge of the roof, waving a hand in welcome as a squad of security officers surrounded him, rifles in hand.
"On your knees!" shouted the leader of the squad, gun aimed squarely at Assassin's face.
"Oh, monsieur!" Assassin said, putting a hand to his chest in faux-shock. "At least buy me dinner first!"
Assassin moved out of the way a second before the man pulled the trigger, dodging the bullet fired at him expertly. To tell the truth, he doubted it would do anything to him as a Servant, but the display of dexterity was rather fetching. What was the point of being shot at if you couldn't have a little fun with it?"
"Please, monsieur, calm yourself!" laughed Assassin, arms spread wide. "If I hadn't been paying attention, you could have scratched me!"
Next, the entire squad fired - these really were volatile fellows, weren't they? Had Vane not told them the objective was simply to touch Assassin? He'd thought he'd gotten that point across well, but perhaps not. Ah well. He'd fulfilled his duty and told the man how to deactivate Calling Card - it was up to him whether he used that information correctly.
Oh, right. Assassin focused on the situation. He was still being shot at, wasn't he? Still chuckling, he took the cape at his shoulder and spread it wide, deflecting the entire volley of bullets heading towards him in an instant.
The captain of the squad blinked, disbelief written across every inch of his face. Was that a small tremor Assassin detected in his hands, as well? Well, one could hardly blame the man. He'd likely gone through life believing the solution to every problem was a swift and sure bullet.
Well, Assassin liked to think of himself as a problem without a solution.
He blinked, cocking his head. "I'm sure you have more ammunition, monsieur," he gestured towards the man's rifle with one hand. "Please, don't stop on my account. Continue."
There was a moment of tension on the roof, the security officers' eyes flicking hesitantly towards the leader. Did they continue their assault, or did they simply give up in the face of a man who could block bullets with mere cloth? Assassin, for one, was excited to find out.
The man, slowly, clipped his rifle back to his uniform and put his hands by his sides. Assassin frowned. He was giving up? How disappointing.
Then, he whipped out a baton and pressed a button on it, causing it to spark with electricity. Assassin's frown instantly flipped into an overjoyed grin. Oh, this really was the kind of encounter he'd hoped for!
The squad, following their leader's example, rushed Assassin at once, stun batons in hand - but Assassin nonchalantly dodged every swing. He gave them some hope for success, of course, waiting until the last possible moment before moving out of the way. It was only right that he make it as entertaining for them as it was for him, after all.
Still, he had to admit that - all things considered - he was actually at something of a disadvantage here. Dodging was really the only move open to him. He couldn't block any of their strikes or counterattack, as that would count as them making physical contact with him, and deactivate Calling Card. Plus, once Calling Card had failed against a target once, it couldn't be used against that target again.
So, he had to be careful. But not too careful. That would be boring.
He did have a way to counterattack, come to think of it, and quite an amusing one. Assassin stepped out of the way of another blow, positioning himself carefully - and when another blow came for him and he dodged, it instead hit the officer right behind him, sending him flying with a blast of electricity.
"Oh my," said Assassin, rubbing his chin and ducking to avoid another strike. "You really need to be careful with these things. Is that fellow alright?"
The blows came faster, driven on by frustration at how nothing seemed able to touch this enemy - and more than one of those blows fell upon the officer's own comrades, each time punctuated by an amused laugh from Assassin.
Finally, when all the remaining officers were panting and struggling to stand up straight - such was their exhaustion - Assassin stepped away from the group. He looked exactly the same as when the encounter had began, with not even a hair out of place.
"Gentlemen," he said, bowing deeply and genuinely. "I thank you for a truly invigorating evening. Would you please tell your Mr. Vane that he has forty-one hours left in which to catch me? Thank you."
And with that, he fell backwards off the building.